A bit more for your pleasure.
xx
chapter 8
Now
Agatha
Agatha stood on top of the kitchen counter hanging on for dear life and cursing herself for wearing a short dress. Her three guests were currently crawling on the floor looking for the mouse that she had seen and Agatha, scared out of her wits, would not come down until it had been taken away. But still…the dress was so short that she had caught Charles in the act of sneaking a glance, then looking away red faced from embarrassment.
“It’s no good,” Ben sighed, standing up and brushing down his trousers, “I think it’s gone under the cupboards. You may as well come down, it won’t come out again tonight.”
“I can’t,” Agatha said, “you don’t understand. I’m terrified of them, I’m really quite paralysed with fear right now.”
“Look it’s alright,” Ben said patiently, “I’ll help you down…let me lift you. I’m stronger than I look.”
“And I’m heavier than I look,” said Agatha, trying for the second time that night to keep the tears back. “Maybe…maybe you should all just go. We don’t need to do this.”
“What, and leave you up there for the rest of the night?” This was from Ruby, who was also now standing and leaning against the fridge.
“I’m fine, really,” said Agatha, trying to stand in a casual way, whilst holding onto her dress with one hand and to the kitchen cupboards with the other. “You just go, and have a nice christmas.”
Agatha looked down at her guests - Ben who was looking up at her sympathetically, Ruby who was trying not to laugh and Charles who was still on the floor with one arm under the oven, a look of concentration on his face.
“We’re not going Agatha so either come down here now or I’m going to have to manhandle you, and with the length of that dress I’m not sure you’re going to come away with any dignity,” said Ben with what he hoped was his stern voice.
Agatha looked down and took a deep breath. She couldn’t hear a squeak and couldn’t see a tail…maybe she should just climb down. She started to lower herself but her foot suddenly slipped from under her and she fell into Ben’s arms clumsily, him only catching her at the last second. He held her there for a moment, Agatha looking into his eyes, until they were interrupted by Charles who stood triumphantly with the wriggling mouse in his hand.
“Got him,” he exclaimed proudly, dangling the offending creature just inches away from Agatha’s face. She screamed loudly into Ben’s ear, scrambling as fast as she could to get back up onto the counter, which resulted in an elbow into Ruby’s face, a kick into Ben’s groin and a nudge in the way of Charles’ hand which sent the mouse flying into the sink. Charles moved quickly and recaptured the mouse, this time holding it in both hands securely.
Ben was groaning, bending over and clutching his manhood, and Ruby was cursing a steady stream of expletives whilst tears streamed from her gradually blackening eye. Agatha had run from the room, seeing that as her only way of being protection. She ran and hid in the shoe closet.
Charles
The crazy one had been standing on the kitchen top in her tiny short dress and Charles had been unable to look away. He knew it was wrong and he knew what his mother would say but still…she had good legs. He set himself the easy task of finding the mouse, and shut off all the distractions whilst he felt about under the oven. This he could do…he knew how to catch mice, he was patient and calm and had had plenty of practise. He suddenly felt the warm furry body and as fast as he could wrapped his hand around the tail, and held on tight. He hadn’t anticipated the reaction from Agatha though, resulting in the mouse being knocked out of his hands. Carnage ensued but he managed to grab the mouse again before he scampered off. This night just got weirder.
Ruby
‘Ow, freaking ow’, thought Ruby as she saw stars. Wait, had she spoken out loud? Judging by people’s reactions she had spoken out loud, and had said a lot worse than ‘freaking’.
Ben
‘What was that? That…look.’ Ben was groaning and clutching his balls but he was pleasantly distracted by the way her legs felt in his arms and the way her pretty brown eyes looked into his. He waited for the burning sensation to ease before he went to look for her. But damn he had forgotten how much this could hurt.
Agatha
Agatha ran into her bedroom and shut the door, barricading herself in by moving the chair. She shuddered, unable to get the image of the mouse wriggling in front of her. She felt dirty so stripped down to her underwear, throwing her dress into the corner of the room to deal with later. She ran to the wardrobe and searched quickly for something else to wear. So absorbed was she in finding an outfit that she didn’t hear the knock on the door. The next thing she saw was Ben and Charles bursting into her bedroom, knocking over the chair and standing with their mouths agape at Agatha in just her underwear.
Charles
Charles gulped.
Ruby
Ruby looked through the freezer for a bag of peas and spotted the shelves and shelves of ready meals and tubs of ice cream. ‘Healthy eater’, she thought sarcastically before settling on a bag of sweetcorn.
Ben
“Oh wow…I mean sorry, we were just making sure you were ok, but we can see you’re more than ok, I mean you look great, really great, but not because you’re almost naked, although that’s great too - not that I’m looking because that would be weird, but…ok we’ll just go and leave you to it.” Ben nudged Charles in the stomach and turned. Charles didn’t move so Ben went back and grabbed him by the sleeve. “Sorry again.”
Agatha
‘Will this night ever end,’ she asked herself before settling on a slightly more demure dress which fell below her knees and covered up a good part of her chest. ‘What oh what were you thinking Nan?’ She sighed and decided to face the music, first off readying herself to explain about the mouse thing.
Chapter 9
Four years earlier
Charles sneezed again and blew his nose with the over sized hankie that his mother insisted he carry in his pocket. He had tried to persuade her that he didn’t need hankies any more but she wasn’t one to break with tradition and continued to embroider his initials in the bottom lefthand corner as she had done for his father before him. She came running into the room on the next sneeze and felt his forehead with the back of her hand.
“Charles darling, you’re all snuffly, you must go to bed.”
“Oh mummy, stop fussing will you? I must finish these jumpers or they won’t be out by christmas.”
“No darling, I’m not risking your health. Come on, to bed with you.”
“NO. Mummy I’m not a little boy any more and I’m not going to die like Daddy and James.” He sneezed again.
“Well at least let me get you a lemsip, or maybe a few spoonfuls of calpol.”
“Calpol? Oh please. A lemsip will be fine. Thank you.”
“Rightio. Though I’ll be back with a thermometer and if your temperature is too high I’ll be calling Dr Sanderson. No arguments.”
Charles waited until his mother had left the room then put his hand over his forehead, willing the shivering to stop. She simply didn’t understand it - they had no money and if he didn’t complete these christmas jumpers then there would be no goose for christmas lunch, and no christmas presents under the tree.
He forced himself to continue but knew it was only a matter of time before he’d have to stop. He tried to focus on the last few bits of detail but found himself sitting back in his chair and staring out of the window.
Charles was a handsome 22 year old with a mop of curly brown hair and dark brown eyes that remained in a furrowed position almost all of the time. He lived with his mother on a grand estate in the beautiful countryside of Surrey, surrounded by fields and farms and picturesque brooks. It had been their family home for many generations, being passed down from son to son. It was a tradition that the Harrington family have sons and this generation had been no different. Unfortunately it had also become a traditon that the Harrington men died young from heart disease, so Charles had grown up without a father since the age of 3. He had had a brother too, James, who had tragically died as a toddler in a car accident. As a result Charles’ mother was very protective and smothering towards her only remaining relative.
They had a good relationship however, and for the most part Charles was content living in the grand house. But money was scarce and before long they had to face facts that they could not afford to live in the house any longer. The roof was leaking, walls were starting to fall because of damp and bats had moved into the attic, all things they were unable to fix. Charles had spoken to the National Trust and now they had visitors from all over the country traipsing through their home on Tuesdays to Sundays and a lovely tea room in the old stables.
It was not perfect but at least they were left alone at night time.
Of course, this had meant that all the rooms were maintained by the National Trust, which had only left five rooms available to them - a bedroom each, the kitchen, dining room and one of the drawing rooms, the smaller one that had fantastic light. When visitors arrived they shut themselves in their rooms and kept the curtains closed so nosey old women wouldn’t be tempted to see how the mighty had fallen. Charles didn’t mind it really, he sometimes walked through the gardens to listen to the guests gossip, or just to get fresh air. But his mother had struggled to come to terms with the arrangement, still living for better times when every room was available to her and every room was furnished beautifully.
Theirs was a weird but wonderful relationship. He had been pampered and spoilt by his mother from the day he was born and there was not a day went by when he did not feel smothered by her. Yet he loved her so unconditionally that all her faults seemed small and inconsequential. He had no social life to speak of, no real job and he did not really know the things that flicked his switch.
He did love to cook though. He really loved to cook. Many hours were spent in the kitchen tasting, stirring, creating new recipes. He had spent many a night watching cookery programmes with his mother, and such was his brain that he just had to read a recipe once and it stuck in his mind until an opportunity arose for him to try it. His mother found this hugely beneficial as her culinary expertise stopped at being able to cook the perfect boiled egg. They ate like kings every night and his mothers waist line was the proof.
Charles and his mother had tried their hand at many things - dog training (they had one dog Womack who was old and had no teeth) but people only came with their dogs to nose into the grounds of the house. They had tried clay pigeon shooting lessons but the only people that ever booked was stag parties and they either never showed up or showed up drunk in their onesies, nearly killing each other in the process. They even tried horse riding lessons but they had had to borrow a neighbours horse and it turned out that they didn’t really know much about how to teach people to ride. In fact it turned out that the remaining Harrington family knew very little about anything, and didn’t really like people very much, so after that they decided to start a business in knitting.
Charles’ mother Suzannah had been trained in knitting back in the day, before she was married and had any prospects. She had learnt from her mother and was actually rather good at it. But when she found, met, and married Charles’ father it was suggested to her that she keep this…gift quiet. In fact she never even mentioned to her husband that she could knit because such a concept was alien to the Harrington family. But when they were resigned to a life of rack and ruin, Suzannah taught her son everything she knew and so they began knitting and selling chrismtas jumpers, just before christmas jumpers became fashionable. Their produce was good quality - Charles had learnt quickly with something of a flair for knitting, and soon their website - the unoriginally named Harrington Christmas Knitwear - was inundated almost throughout the year.
Charles lay his head down on the table for a moment and rested his eyes. The wood felt cool for his head and in no time he was drifting off to sleep. He was awoken suddenly by his mother who had panicked that he had gone into a coma, and that was that, he was shipped off to bed.
He couldn’t argue any longer. The orders would have to wait, even though it was their busiest time of the year. He took some paracetemol and crawled under his bed covers, ignoring the distant sound of National Trust visitors and occasional shriek from a fed up child.
It was a few hours later that he woke up to the sound of raised voices and the smashing of what sounded like glass. His clouded brain took a few moments to register what was happening and he shot out of bed, causing his head to explode in agonising pain. He heard more shouting and made his way in the dark room to the top of the stairs. He glanced at his watch which said 7pm - he had slept for 4 hours - and wondered who his mother could be shouting at. The NT guests would have left and they didn’t have any friends that ever came to visit. As he neared the sound, which was coming from the kitchen he realised that the other voice was a womans, one which sounded similar to his mother. He found himself eavesdropping, something he had never really learnt was wrong.
“Suzannah, this has gone on long enough. What on earth would Charles say if he knew?”
“Leave Charles out of this, he must never know. We’re happy like this.”
Charles frowned, unsure that he was happy, but also unsure that he knew what happiness was. He decided that he would go and find out who the voice belonged to.
He walked towards the kitchen but stepped on the creaky floorboard in the hall, and suddenly the voices stopped. He thought he could hear a “shhhing” but that could just have been the fuzziness of his head. His mother came running out to meet him before he could reach the kitchen.
“Charles my love, what are you doing out of bed? Come on, lets get you back upstairs, you need your rest.”
She tried herding him back towards his room but he kept looking at the kitchen and trying to get past. His mother was a force to be reckoned with and she had made it to the bottom step before he could ask the question “who is in the kitchen?”
She stopped in her tracks and for a moment Charles thought she would tell him.
“No-one you daft sausage,” she finally said airily, continuing to push him. But it was too late, he saw the lie in her eyes.
“Who is it mummy? I heard a smashing sound.”
“Oh that was just clumsy old me dropping a plate. I was talking to myself like I always do. Come on, up we go.”
He felt so lightheaded that he thought he would pass out so decided to let his mother put him back in bed after all. His head hit the pillow and he was out cold again, sleeping until the next morning.
He did not wake as the woman was forced out of his home, he did not wake as his mother slammed the door slightly louder than she had intended, and he did not wake to the sobs of his mother as she cried herself to sleep.
Chapter 10
The next day Charles woke slowly, still feeling rough but feeling better, especially from the amount of sleep. He looked at the clock which said it was already 11 O’clock and pushed himself up in his bed. He needed to get back to the jumpers, some needed finishing but more importantly was the completed orders which needed to be taken to the post office. His mother was something of a recluse and hated going out anywhere…even a short walk to the village was a struggle for her, always feeling like the neighbours were laughing at her, and feeling like the open space was going to collapse on her. So Charles knew that he had to get out of the house, but that he may take some time to manage it.
They had a car, an old Morris Minor that was kept in the garage, but Charles had never officially learnt how to drive so there it remained, rarely looked at and never used. His mother used to let him take it round the estate before the National Trust came in but now he didn’t touch it as he didn’t like the idea of knocking an old man in his wheelchair over. He enjoyed walking anyway, a trip to the village was a pleasant one and something he looked forward to. If his mother knew anything about couriers though he had a feeling he would never be allowed out of the house - which is why he kept quiet.
He went downstairs and saw his mother watching a cheap TV christmas movie with dodgy actors and bad sound. He watched her for a moment, wondering how his life had ever ended up this way. When he was at school - the local village school instead of the boarding school his father had intended him to go - his teachers used to praise him and tell him he was destined for great things. He was consistently the top of the class and was considered a bright pupil. Socially he was lacking though and he had almost no friends in the small school where he was considered quiet and boring by the other children. His only friend was a girl who had learning difficulties. She never talked to him about spiderman - which held no interest for him - or asked him to play action man games like the other boys. They would sit without speaking and although Charles knew there was something strange about him he couldn’t for the life of him figure out how to be more…normal.
Watching his mother now though he knew that she was a big part of this. She had refused to send him to school for some time, stating that he didn’t need an education and that the world was too scary for a boy of Charles’ nature. But the authorities didn’t see it that way and so on his sixth birthday he left the house with his trousers out of fashion and too big and walked the half mile to school, his mother crying the whole way.
She understandably had wanted to keep him safe, having had an awful time losing her husband and her son when they were both so young. Charles had grown up shouldering the responsibility that he must stay fit and healthy, that if he died then his mother would have no-one in the whole wide world. Her parents had died many years ago and she was an only child.
When his mother finally looked up from her film he noticed a sadness in her eyes that he had not seen for some time. But she blinked and in an instant she had wiped it away with the strong iron will she possessed. She would never let him see her like that if she could help it.
"How are you feeling my darling?" She exclaimed, standing up and cupping his face in her hands.
"Much better thanks."
"Good, good. Sit down and I'll get you breakfast. What do you want, bacon sandwich? Pancakes? Dippy egg with soldiers?" She giggled at the last option, still enjoying the joke they shared.
"No, I don't want anything. I'm not hungry."
"Oh my love you must eat," she said, absentmindedly stroking his hair.
"No, really. I'm about to head to the post office."
"No, you mustn't. You're not well enough to walk all that way. You should be back in bed."
"No." He stood up abruptly. "Stop fussing over me mother, I'm not a child."
She stood back as though he had struck her and kept her eyes low.
"Who was it that was here last night? Tell me."
"Honestly love, no one was here. You were hallucinating that's all. It was just me."
"You're lying."
"Charles!"
"You're lying. And I know you are. I know what I heard and you're lying to me."
She started crying, real tears falling down her cheeks, and she ran out of the room and went up to her bedroom. Angrily Charles stood up and left the house, making sure he slammed the door for effect. Of course, he had to sneak back in quietly when he realised he had forgotten the parcels and his wallet. But hopefully she would never know.
After posting his parcels Charles spent some time in the village, taking his time before he would have to head home and pretend like nothing had happened. Yet another strange event in his life that would remain unmentioned, unavailable to him. First though he would do something he was rarely able to do..,go and have cake at The Pot, the local cafe. Fran and her husband George were well liked in the village, and their cakes and coffee were some of the greatest Charles had ever tasted. In fact on the rare occasion that he went in and allowed himself an indulgence he found himself talking to Fran for hours about lemon drizzle cakes and drop scones. They were kindred spirits and she was one person he allowed himself to be real with.
George, her husband, tolerated him but only because his wife would give him a look...a look which said 'leave the poor boy alone, what's he ever done to you.' Charles had a feeling that they laughed about him behind his back but she was the only person that made him feel normal, like a human.
Charles pushed the door and saw with dismay that the cafe was busy and that Fran wasn't even there. George and the local girl were serving people, balancing trays and cleaning tables as soon as they became available. Charles was about to walk back out of the door but he caught the eye of an old lady and felt drawn to her. She nodded her head towards the spare seat at her table and he found himself walking to her, as if she was using magnetic rays to pull him in.
"Come and sit with me Charlie, I have a spare seat."
He faltered, nothing like this had ever happened to him before. She seemed safe enough but what would his mother say?
"Oh come on Charlie, it's high time we spoke. I think there are some things you should know."
He looked towards the door and back at the woman. He looked at George who had stopped with his arms folded, almost threateningly. He made to leave but then realised something. That voice. Her voice...he had heard it before. It was the voice from the kitchen.
"Now I'll be having the Chelsea bun because I have a thing for raisins and Fran does make them with an extra helping. What will you be having Charlie?"
"My name is Charles."
"I know. But back when I was a young girl there was a boy that looked exactly like you, curls and all, and he liked to be called Charlie. Do you have any objections?"
Charles thought long and hard. He had been called Charlie in school, and although he had objected to the nickname, back then it had been used with venom from the other school children who used it to taunt him. From this lady it seemed...it felt like she was a kindly relative who had a soft spot for him. But he had never met her before so how could that be?
"I suppose we could give it a go," he said tentatively.
"Good," she said, tapping his hand affectionately.
George chose this moment to come and take their order, worrying no doubt that Charles was somehow mistreating this sweet old lady.
"Morning George. My usual please. Now what do you want Charlie? I hear the croissants are good this morning."
"I'm not hungry. I think..,I'll just have a cappuccino."
George looked at him puzzled.
"Nothing to eat? But you always have something to eat."
"I think Charlie has been unwell, he may need to build his appetite back up slowly."
George shrugged and shuffled away and Charles found himself staring at the woman before him. She looked vaguely familiar but she couldn't think why. Before he could stop himself however, he blurted out "you were in my kitchen last night weren't you?"
The old lady looked at him long and hard but didn't say anything for some time. Charles felt time ticking away but didn't feel the need to speak or break eye contact with her.
George came back noisily with his tray and almost dropped it on the table in front of them.
"Thank you George, this looks as lovely as always. Is Fran ok?"
"Oh yes, the sickness is beginning to pass. I'll be glad when she's back on her feet again that's for sure."
The old lady looked sympathetic and nodded her head.
"The first trimester is always the hardest George. She'll be right as rain."
"First trimester?" Asked Charles confused.
"Yes. We're having a baby."
"But...but you're too old," Charles blurted out before he realised that this was one of those thoughts that was supposed to stay inside his head.
George's shoulders raised like the shackles on a cat and his face turned a bright shade of puce.
"How dare you, you little -"
"It's alright George come on. It's not like you're a pair of spring chickens is it? What Charlie means to say is congratulations, isn't that right Charlie?"
Charles, stlll getting used to the way his nickname sounded on him, snapped out of his thoughts and nodded.
"Yes. Um, congratulations George."
George looked unsettled but seemed to accept it as he placed the food on the table. He nodded once at Charles before heading back to the kitchen.
"So you still haven't told me why you were in my kitchen."
"Well technically you didn't ask why, you just asked if I was. And no, I haven't answered yet, because I'm trying to decide if I should override your mothers wishes to keep it a secret."
Charles felt as though he needed another sleep. The room started spinning and he gripped the table until his knuckles went white.
"Oh come on now, don't be so melodramatic," the old lady said rolling her eyes. He snapped his head up to look at her and was so taken aback that he felt the panic dissolve and actually smiled.
Saturday, 26 September 2015
Wednesday, 23 September 2015
A few more chapters...
A few more chapters...please excuse the bits I haven't had a chance to proof read (pretty much all of it!)
Chap 4
Now
Agatha"I'm just (hiccup) going to the kitchen to - no, don't get up, (hiccup)" she said to Ben, ever the gent, as she forcefully pushed back her chair to stand. "I'll be back in a why wheel...I mean wee while." She hiccuped again and scampered off to the kitchen. Not even the delightful after taste of the starter could cheer her up right now. She was struggling, though the added stress of too much alcohol wasn't helping.
She cleared the plates away and shoved them into the sink...slightly noisily but she didn't think they'd notice. It wasn't their fault that they were at this stupid dinner party.
With 1 night to go until Christmas, Agatha felt sure that they all had plenty of things they would rather be doing...seeing relatives, last minute wrapping - hell, even watching Home Alone with mulled wine in pyjamas. That's what she'd rather be doing anyway. But instead they were all having to endure each other's company, despite the fact they obviously had nothing in common and didn't actually like each other. She took one last minute of sanctuary from her kitchen then took a deep breath.
Charles
'Wow,' thought Charles, 'that girl can make a noise when she's mad.' He stretched out in his seat, stretching his hands behind his head and looking up at the ceiling. There was no point trying to make conversation with anyone, they were all as bored as he was and in just 2 hours time they would never have to meet again.
Ruby
Ruby had a song resounding in her head...she couldn't stop humming it in her mind. It was The Beat Goes On by Sonny and Cher and it was one of her favourites. She had played it for a while with one of the groups she used to play in but the song gave her bad memories so she never listened to it any more. But today, today the song popped into her head like an unwelcome flea pops onto a cat. She was aware of a banging coming from the kitchen but barely acknowledged it, focusing instead on keeping the memories at bay.
Ben
Bens hands found his pockets, and he started fiddling with his phone, willing there to be a phone call or a text or SOMETHING to drag him away. No doubt Giles would be having a marvellous time at home with all his carers, then waiting for him on hands and feet. It was his job, Ben's job to be there for him, no one else's. But they had insisted he come. Oh the things he could be doing right now...wrapping a few last presents, catching up with some friends at the bar...watching a film in his Pjs with some mulled wine. 'What film would I watch' he thought trying to distract himself. 'Something Christmassy? Yeah, Misery, that's quite Christmassy...at least it's got snow in it.' His mind wandered in the silence until he was disrupted by a scream.
Chap 5
3 years ago
Ruby
Paul heard the sound of heels from behind and knew that she was here. The signature click-clack of her red sparkly heels, her homage to Dorothy. She was late of course, as always, and he was about to turn and reprimand her when a small figure jumped on his back and wrapped her legs around him. It caught him off guard but he was strong, he worked out, and she was but a feather. She clung on for dear life as he thrashed about, trying to get her off...it seemed that she was as strong as he, and certainly more fierce. They continued to wrestle for some time, both as determined as the other to reign as champion but soon his grunts of determination turned to laughter and he gave up, collapsing to the wall near him with weakness.
"Yes! Though she be small she be mighty!" Ruby jumped off his back and ran a victory lap around his shaking body. "Loser!" she shouted in his face. He caught her eye and she stopped suddenly, caught unaware as she always was when he looked at her that way. He could always unnerve her with one look, one glance, one wink. She had not yet grown used to the effect he could have on her. She went to kiss him passionately, and they spent a few moments like that, under the lamppost, in the alley next to the club where she was about to perform in front of a growing crowd of fans. He pulled away.
"Don't stop," she implored, searching his eyes and stroking his stubble.
"Aren't you going to be late," he teased, wiping some of her smudged lipstick off her face.
"Oh I don't care," she sighed, "I don't need anything else in my life, I just need you."
"Now come on," he said, pulling her hands down and holding them in front of him. "You can't let all those adoring fans down. It's a sell out in there tonight."
"I know," she sighed again, "but you know who's going to be on the front row? Old man Taylor with his bunch of cronies. Leering, accidentally falling as though they're tipsy whilst trying to cop a feel of my bum. I'm tired of them, I've had enough."
"But they love you here," he coaxed, "and you're on the brink of something big. Played on the local radio station, you're getting noticed babe. You just need to do a few more of these gigs then you'll be hitting the big time."
"I don't even know if that's what I want. I like my life, it's,..uncomplicated. I like uncomplicated."
"No-one ever made it by being uncomplicated Rubes, now come on, get going. You need to sparkle tonight...plus your makeup needs touching up."
She narrowed her eyes at him.
"You saying I'm not beautiful without my sparkly make up?"
"Oh good grief no. I wouldn't dare."
"Love you big man." There was an awkward pause and Ruby suddenly realised that something was off about Paul tonight. Usually it was him using the 'L' word but he hadn't said it yet. In fact he hadn't told her recently at all. He looked down at the ground and shuffled from foot to foot.
"Yeah...about that. Um, let's catch up after your gig, ok? Let's go for a drink."
Ruby narrowed her eyes at him and watched him for a moment. He looked uncomfortable and he was squirming.
"How about we catch up now? What's going on?"
"I don't want to talk now, you'll be late. But I'll be here I promise. I may even take out old man Taylor's bad leg for you."
"I'm not going anywhere until you tell me what's going on."
He looked at his feet before quietly saying, "I'm really sorry Rubes but..."
"Ah, I get it, you love me too," she grinned, playfully punching his arm.
"That's the thing...I do, kind of, but....oh man, I can't believe I'm doing this. I don't...I don't love you like that. Not really. I've been pretending for a long time, but I can't deny it any more...I just don't want to be with you any more."
"This is...a really nasty joke Paul, come on. I'm about play a gig."
"It's not a joke Rubes. I haven't really been busy the last few days I'm just...I've been avoiding you I suppose. I'm so, so sorry."
"Why?"
"Look, let's go out for a drink after and I'll tell you. There are some things...things that I need to tell you."
Ruby looked at him intently and knew that he was speaking the truth. She suddenly felt her world crumble. She felt angry, hurt, shocked but not sad...she refused to mourn for this man who was trying mercilessly to break her heart. She would not cry. She wanted to hit him, wanted to scream. Instead she calmly said, "I don't think that's necessary, you've made yourself quite clear. I think I'll be on my way. Got a career to build without you." She turned and walked towards the club. There was no time, no room in her mind to stop and dwell on this. He was the love of her life, the only one who had got her to say those words. But she wasn't about to stop her life for him, she would not cry, would not be defeated by a broken heart. Yet she ached and she knew that if she stopped and turned around she would cry and never stop. She carried on walking towards the club. But something made her stop in her tracks. A shadow from the back door of the club...a silhouette she knew so well...he couldn't be here...
Paul saw her hesitation and caught up with her, placing his hand on his back.
"Are you ok Rubes? You don't have to do this."
She looked at the man she loved, who had been her partner, her best friend and she whispered, "my dads here."
Chap 6
Ruby ran towards the club, her heart pounding, and flung the door open wide, ignoring the doorman who normally liked to search her bag even though she was a regular and never in possession of any drug, weapon or alcohol. He had his back turned to her but she's know this man anywhere. His tall frame, muscular shoulders, close shaved head, habit from years of being in the military. She hasn't seen him in so long...she spoke to him regularly, but to see him, to touch him and have one of his giant bear hugs? It was too much and she softly said "Daddy?"
He whisked his head around and in two paces had crossed the distance between them and swept her up into his arms. She felt the weight of the world dissolve from her shoulders and she hugged him back with every ounce of love she had. In that moment nothing else mattered, the singing, the relationships? Not important.
After some time he put her down, and wiped a stray tear away from her cheek.
"What's happening my little Ruby Wednesday?" She laughed and held her fathers giant hand in hers.
"Dad, this is the best gift I have ever received. I can't believe you're here."
"You look...you look so good. I can't believe how beautiful you are."
"You say that every time you come home."
"And every time I mean it."
Ruby's dad had been in the army all her life and way before that. She was an only child who had been raised by a quiet and recluse of a mother, only seeing her dad for weeks at a time when he finally got leave. They had travelled all over the world, Ruby and her mum, packing the bare minimum every time and living in dingy military quarters, just to be near to Ruby's dad. The two women had very little in common, but this was one thing that United them. He was the centre of their world and all they wanted was to be close to him.
Ruby's mother used to shine when he walked through the door, but he only ever had eyes for Ruby. He would smile kindly at this woman and as Ruby grew older she saw the pain that this caused. But the relationship had drifted apart and the only reason he came home at all was to see his daughter.
The last time she had seen him was 2 years ago when he had called from a phone box in London to say he was home for the weekend and did she want to meet him? Well of course she dropped everything-rehearsals with the band, a night away with girlfriends and an interview for a new job, to see him for one day. Ruby never spoke to her mother much, she had moved out when she was 16 to live with an older man who was nothing except a mentor and best friend to her.
Dave, the club manager, came running towards her, shouting and waving his arms angrily.
"Uh oh," Ruby said to her father, "I'm in for it now. How long are you staying?"
"I'll be here for you after sweetheart don't worry."
"But how long are you staying?"
"Ruby, you're late...look at the state of you!" Shouted Dave in her face. Saliva had gathered at the corner of his mouth and she was subjected to a spraying.
"Dave, just a minute. This is my dad, he -"
"I don't care Ruby, if you're not on stage in 2 minutes you're..."
"I'm talking to my dad." She glared at the manager like the feisty firecracker that she was and refused to back down.
"Ruby it's ok, I'll be here when you finish. I'm so excited to see you. Make me proud honey." He kissed her and nodded to Dave as he walked off to find a seat.
Ruby couldn't believe it,,,she felt as if she was flying. Her dad had come to see her and she just knew he would be her number one fan.
She managed to get through the set despite the niggling pain in the back of her mind that her relationship with Paul was over.
A few hours later she was being applauded and cheered and she felt the happiest that she had ever felt. She hadn't taken her eyes off her father in case he disappeared, but she knew she'd given it everything she had.
Finally the crowd let her leave the stage so she placed her guitar down gently and waved one last time before diving backstage to where her dad would hopefully make his way. She was thinking of all the places she would take him...they could go out for food to the Mexican that she loved - when someone grabbed her arm and stopped her in her tracks.
It was Paul and he was drunk. It was unlike him but she didn't have time right then, she needed to get to her dad. But he wouldn't let her go and something about him just didn't seem right.
"You've got a cheek. Let go of me," she cried, shoving him away from her.
"I made a mistake," he slurred, "I'm sorry Rubes. I shouldna said anything."
"I don't want to hear it Paul. Just go home and leave me alone."
Paul's hands were wandering over her back and shoulders, making their way to her face and she was about to knee him in the groin when her favourite person in the whole wide world bellowed "get away from my daughter."
Paul lost his grip on Ruby as she wriggled out of his grasp and he turned to see the man who was now towering over him. Max Devereux was a force to be reckoned with and ordinarily a man like Paul would have walked away, hands up in surrender. But a crazy confidence had possessed him and in his drunken state believed he could take him on.
Paul staggered towards him and swung his arm wildly in the direction of the soldier. Max took a step back and let him exhaust himself. A few moments later and Paul had fallen onto his face and had a nose bleed.
"Just go home mate, leave her be ok?" Said max, turning away from him to find Ruby.
"She's a bitch, and you're welcome to her."
It happened in a flash...max spun round on his heel and with a steel fist punched him in the side of his head, knocking him out cold. Paul slumped to the floor and a gentle stream of blood trickled down his face.
"Dad, come on he's not worth it. Let's go, ok?" Ruby insisted frantically. The club was always having to deal with fights and as a result Dave had a no tolerance policy. She could see him now, heading towards them, look of anger on his face.
Ruby grabbed her fathers hand and they headed to the door, though she glanced back at Paul once before they left. It was the last time she saw him.
The incident with Paul hadn't really effected her - he was being a knob and deserved it - but seeing her dad like that, in a different light...it made her fear him slightly. Not that he would ever do anything like that to her, or even her mother for that matter. But she happened to glance at him and see something in his eye as he clenched his fist and punched. It was a grim satisfaction, a sort of lust that took over as his fist made contact. Ruby had never seen her dad like this and it scared her.
They went for a Mexican however, her dad insisting that he treat her, then he drank vodka as though it were water. He started getting rowdier as the alcohol kicked in and before long he was guffawing loudly at her jokes and boasting about his talented daughter to anyone who would listen.
There were a couple of people in the restaurant - an old lady at one table and a couple at the other, but it was already late, nearly closing time.
Ruby looked out of the window as her father paid the bill and saw a police car drive past slowly. A couple of drunken men walked into the road and leered at the car but the police just ignored them. Ruby thought nothing of it and turned her attention back to her father who was now beginning to shout abuse at the waitress, claiming that she had overcharged him and that they didn't even order the nachos to start. Ruby stood up and went to pay herself, when two police officers walked into the restaurant and headed straight for her father. They calmly stood behind him and said "Mr Max Devereux? He spun round aggressively but stopped when he saw who it was.
"That's me sirofficer. And how are you tonight?" he slurred, leaning up against the counter.
"We would like to discuss an event which happened earlier tonight if you don't mind, sir."
"What event? I been with my daughter all night, isn't that right Ruby?"
Ruby rushed to her dad and slid her arms around his waist.
"That's right, he has been with me all evening. What's the matter?"
"It's concerning a Mr Paul Armstrong and an incident that happened at the club tonight."
"What's he said?" Ruby asked angrily, "he has no right to call you, it was his fault. He's such an arse."
"So you were at the club with Mr Armstrong then?"
"Well yes but he called my daughter a nasty name and I won't tolerate it, you know?" slurred max.
"Mr Devereux I'm placing you under arrest -"
"What?" Shouted Ruby incredulously, "That's outrageous, what for?"
"For the murder of Paul Armstrong."
Chapter 7
Ruby could do nothing but stare as they led her father away, him glancing over his shoulder at her, trying to reassure her.
"Don't worry babe, I'll sort this out, just go home and I'll see you in the morning. Love you Ruby."
Ruby was too shocked to move and suddenly collapsed to the floor just as the police car drove away. Although she remained conscious she was unaware of how long she spent lying on the floor until someone came and lifted her head, placing a coat underneath. It all seemed to be happening so slowly and she could hear strange sounds, as though she was swimming underwater. Her vision was blurred and she couldn't focus on the face now in front of her. She was waving something in front of Ruby's face and trying up force something into her lips...water, it tasted of water. Ruby felt a wave of nausea and started retching, though nothing would come up. She sat up finally and noticed that an old lady was kneeling beside her...the old lady who was sitting at the other table. She had a kindly face and although Ruby felt that she could trust her, she didn't want to talk to anyone, she just wanted to get to her dad. Ruby scrambled to her feet and mumbled her thanks to the lady, making her way to the door. Her legs felt like lead though and she could hardly move. The old lady took her by the shoulders and sat her into a chair.
"Now sit here a minute, you're in no fit state to go anywhere. Cara, get this girl a sugary tea will you? She needs it."
"Isn't brandy better? My dad says that -"
"Your dad says brandy is good for anything, including alcoholism. Get me a tea."
"Alright," she rolled her eyes as she went behind the counter. "How many sugars do I put in?"
"3 teaspoons," the lady said curtly.
"Is sweetener better, she looks like she needs to be on a diet," the girl continued, suddenly bringing Ruby out of her daze.
"Cara Edwards, make that tea now...strong with 3 heaped teaspoons of granulated sugar and give it a good stir. I swear on your mothers grave that I will go back to where you live and tell your father that instead of going to school at 8 O clock in the morning you are actually going to Suzy Jenkins house to smoke pot in her dads shed."
Cara stood with her mouth wide open and blinked once at the old lady. Ruby was slowly beginning to wake from her dazed trance and found the situation in front of her rather funny. She giggled nervously, knowing she was being inappropriate but unable to stop.
Cara looked at her crossly and stormed off behind the door to make a strong tea. This only made Ruby laugh harder and before long she had tears streaming down her face and had her hand covering her mouth. The old lady waited patiently, watching Ruby with pity. Finally Ruby stopped laughing, and suddenly she couldn't remember the reason she had started in the first place. This time the tears were falling for another emotion.
"That's right love, let it out. You've had a shock, it's perfectly normal to behave strangely."
The couple in the corner couldn't take any more it seemed so they dropped some cash on the table and shuffled nervously out of the door, keeping their heads low. Cara came back in with the tea and sat down on the other chair.
"I don't know what was so funny. I wouldn't be laughing if my dad got arrested for murder."
"Cara." The old lady gave her a warning look.
"I knew there was something weird about him."
"Cara!"
"And to think he said that I had overcharged him...I'm not the criminal here. The cheek."
"Cara, into the kitchen now. You go there and you stay there until I tell you to come back."
"I don't want to. I want to stay here."
"Now young lady, and any more of your cheek and Suzy Jenkins will be a distant memory."
Cara held her hands up in surrender and sighed her way to the kitchen. Before she went in she couldn't resist one more comment.
"Don't suppose I'll get a tip now, will I?"
Ruby looked at the old woman sitting in front of her and felt her eyes fill with tears again.
"Thanks but I don't drink tea," she said fighting back the sobs.
"Take a few sips, it'll calm you down and make you feel better. I used to be police liaison officer and I can tell you right now that nothing calms the nerves like a nice cup of sweet tea." She patted her hand then watched as Ruby sipped the hot drink. It burnt her tongue and made her face wrinkle at the taste, but she did not feel strong enough to argue.
"I remember this one time I had to go to a house where the poor man had lost his wife and two children in a car accident. I worked with him for 3 weeks solid, every day going round to comfort him, I saw him go through every emotion under the sun but every time the only thing that settled him was a sweet cup of tea."
Ruby nodded, barely registering what the woman had said.
"What's your name love?" She finally asked once she was satisfied the tea was staying down.
"Ruby. Ruby Devereux."
"Not THE Ruby Devereux? The one on her way to the top?"
Ruby just nodded her assent.
"Well, what a talent you've got, that's for sure. I've been to watch you a number of times now, I think you're a star."
"I don't recognise you," Ruby said with a puzzled look on her face.
"Oh that's because I always sit at the back...old man Taylor had a thing for me a few years ago and now I avoid him like the plague. He doesn't see me if I'm at the back, his eyesights too bad."
Ruby smiled despite herself. The tea must be working.
"What are they going to do to my dad?"
"Well I presume he's still in active duty?"
"Yes."
"Well then the military police will come for him soon, he'll be taken back to base where he will have a trial eventually."
"How can this have happened? He only punched him once."
"Sometimes that's all it takes."
Suddenly shouts came from the kitchen area and cara could be heard swearing and cursing at someone. She came bursting back into the restaurant, arms folded and leaned against the bar. The old woman raised her eyebrows at her and cara tutted and rolled her eyes again, leaving the bar and going back to the kitchen.
The old woman talked to Ruby as she continued sipping her tea, distracting her from the overwhelming problem she was facing. Because Ruby was facing the worst challenge of her life,,,not only was her father in prison but her recently ex boyfriend was dead. She loved him, she would never fully understand the reason he finished with her. And he wanted to tell her...she should have let him, instead of putting her father first in everything she did. Why did he have such a hold on her? Why did he always have to leave again? There was a pause and the woman looked down at her hands on the table.
"I'm sorry, I haven't really been listening. I've lost them both in one night. I'm facing the rest of my life alone and I don't think any amount of tea will fix that. I've got to go to the police station before he's taken to the base and I can't see him again."
"They won't come tonight and you won't be allowed to see him anyway. Let me take you home and you can get some rest. Is there someone else I can call for you?"
"Didn't you hear me?" Ruby asked calmly. "I'm alone. There isn't anyone else. I don't want to go home anyway. There's nothing there for me. And all of his stuff is there."
They stayed at the restaurant for some time then the old lady insisted that they walk to cafe that was open all night.
"You're being so kind but I don't even know your name."
"It's Atta dear. Pleased to make your acquaintance."
She cleared the plates away and shoved them into the sink...slightly noisily but she didn't think they'd notice. It wasn't their fault that they were at this stupid dinner party.
With 1 night to go until Christmas, Agatha felt sure that they all had plenty of things they would rather be doing...seeing relatives, last minute wrapping - hell, even watching Home Alone with mulled wine in pyjamas. That's what she'd rather be doing anyway. But instead they were all having to endure each other's company, despite the fact they obviously had nothing in common and didn't actually like each other. She took one last minute of sanctuary from her kitchen then took a deep breath.
Charles
'Wow,' thought Charles, 'that girl can make a noise when she's mad.' He stretched out in his seat, stretching his hands behind his head and looking up at the ceiling. There was no point trying to make conversation with anyone, they were all as bored as he was and in just 2 hours time they would never have to meet again.
Ruby
Ruby had a song resounding in her head...she couldn't stop humming it in her mind. It was The Beat Goes On by Sonny and Cher and it was one of her favourites. She had played it for a while with one of the groups she used to play in but the song gave her bad memories so she never listened to it any more. But today, today the song popped into her head like an unwelcome flea pops onto a cat. She was aware of a banging coming from the kitchen but barely acknowledged it, focusing instead on keeping the memories at bay.
Ben
Bens hands found his pockets, and he started fiddling with his phone, willing there to be a phone call or a text or SOMETHING to drag him away. No doubt Giles would be having a marvellous time at home with all his carers, then waiting for him on hands and feet. It was his job, Ben's job to be there for him, no one else's. But they had insisted he come. Oh the things he could be doing right now...wrapping a few last presents, catching up with some friends at the bar...watching a film in his Pjs with some mulled wine. 'What film would I watch' he thought trying to distract himself. 'Something Christmassy? Yeah, Misery, that's quite Christmassy...at least it's got snow in it.' His mind wandered in the silence until he was disrupted by a scream.
Chap 5
3 years ago
Ruby
Paul heard the sound of heels from behind and knew that she was here. The signature click-clack of her red sparkly heels, her homage to Dorothy. She was late of course, as always, and he was about to turn and reprimand her when a small figure jumped on his back and wrapped her legs around him. It caught him off guard but he was strong, he worked out, and she was but a feather. She clung on for dear life as he thrashed about, trying to get her off...it seemed that she was as strong as he, and certainly more fierce. They continued to wrestle for some time, both as determined as the other to reign as champion but soon his grunts of determination turned to laughter and he gave up, collapsing to the wall near him with weakness.
"Yes! Though she be small she be mighty!" Ruby jumped off his back and ran a victory lap around his shaking body. "Loser!" she shouted in his face. He caught her eye and she stopped suddenly, caught unaware as she always was when he looked at her that way. He could always unnerve her with one look, one glance, one wink. She had not yet grown used to the effect he could have on her. She went to kiss him passionately, and they spent a few moments like that, under the lamppost, in the alley next to the club where she was about to perform in front of a growing crowd of fans. He pulled away.
"Don't stop," she implored, searching his eyes and stroking his stubble.
"Aren't you going to be late," he teased, wiping some of her smudged lipstick off her face.
"Oh I don't care," she sighed, "I don't need anything else in my life, I just need you."
"Now come on," he said, pulling her hands down and holding them in front of him. "You can't let all those adoring fans down. It's a sell out in there tonight."
"I know," she sighed again, "but you know who's going to be on the front row? Old man Taylor with his bunch of cronies. Leering, accidentally falling as though they're tipsy whilst trying to cop a feel of my bum. I'm tired of them, I've had enough."
"But they love you here," he coaxed, "and you're on the brink of something big. Played on the local radio station, you're getting noticed babe. You just need to do a few more of these gigs then you'll be hitting the big time."
"I don't even know if that's what I want. I like my life, it's,..uncomplicated. I like uncomplicated."
"No-one ever made it by being uncomplicated Rubes, now come on, get going. You need to sparkle tonight...plus your makeup needs touching up."
She narrowed her eyes at him.
"You saying I'm not beautiful without my sparkly make up?"
"Oh good grief no. I wouldn't dare."
"Love you big man." There was an awkward pause and Ruby suddenly realised that something was off about Paul tonight. Usually it was him using the 'L' word but he hadn't said it yet. In fact he hadn't told her recently at all. He looked down at the ground and shuffled from foot to foot.
"Yeah...about that. Um, let's catch up after your gig, ok? Let's go for a drink."
Ruby narrowed her eyes at him and watched him for a moment. He looked uncomfortable and he was squirming.
"How about we catch up now? What's going on?"
"I don't want to talk now, you'll be late. But I'll be here I promise. I may even take out old man Taylor's bad leg for you."
"I'm not going anywhere until you tell me what's going on."
He looked at his feet before quietly saying, "I'm really sorry Rubes but..."
"Ah, I get it, you love me too," she grinned, playfully punching his arm.
"That's the thing...I do, kind of, but....oh man, I can't believe I'm doing this. I don't...I don't love you like that. Not really. I've been pretending for a long time, but I can't deny it any more...I just don't want to be with you any more."
"This is...a really nasty joke Paul, come on. I'm about play a gig."
"It's not a joke Rubes. I haven't really been busy the last few days I'm just...I've been avoiding you I suppose. I'm so, so sorry."
"Why?"
"Look, let's go out for a drink after and I'll tell you. There are some things...things that I need to tell you."
Ruby looked at him intently and knew that he was speaking the truth. She suddenly felt her world crumble. She felt angry, hurt, shocked but not sad...she refused to mourn for this man who was trying mercilessly to break her heart. She would not cry. She wanted to hit him, wanted to scream. Instead she calmly said, "I don't think that's necessary, you've made yourself quite clear. I think I'll be on my way. Got a career to build without you." She turned and walked towards the club. There was no time, no room in her mind to stop and dwell on this. He was the love of her life, the only one who had got her to say those words. But she wasn't about to stop her life for him, she would not cry, would not be defeated by a broken heart. Yet she ached and she knew that if she stopped and turned around she would cry and never stop. She carried on walking towards the club. But something made her stop in her tracks. A shadow from the back door of the club...a silhouette she knew so well...he couldn't be here...
Paul saw her hesitation and caught up with her, placing his hand on his back.
"Are you ok Rubes? You don't have to do this."
She looked at the man she loved, who had been her partner, her best friend and she whispered, "my dads here."
Chap 6
Ruby ran towards the club, her heart pounding, and flung the door open wide, ignoring the doorman who normally liked to search her bag even though she was a regular and never in possession of any drug, weapon or alcohol. He had his back turned to her but she's know this man anywhere. His tall frame, muscular shoulders, close shaved head, habit from years of being in the military. She hasn't seen him in so long...she spoke to him regularly, but to see him, to touch him and have one of his giant bear hugs? It was too much and she softly said "Daddy?"
He whisked his head around and in two paces had crossed the distance between them and swept her up into his arms. She felt the weight of the world dissolve from her shoulders and she hugged him back with every ounce of love she had. In that moment nothing else mattered, the singing, the relationships? Not important.
After some time he put her down, and wiped a stray tear away from her cheek.
"What's happening my little Ruby Wednesday?" She laughed and held her fathers giant hand in hers.
"Dad, this is the best gift I have ever received. I can't believe you're here."
"You look...you look so good. I can't believe how beautiful you are."
"You say that every time you come home."
"And every time I mean it."
Ruby's dad had been in the army all her life and way before that. She was an only child who had been raised by a quiet and recluse of a mother, only seeing her dad for weeks at a time when he finally got leave. They had travelled all over the world, Ruby and her mum, packing the bare minimum every time and living in dingy military quarters, just to be near to Ruby's dad. The two women had very little in common, but this was one thing that United them. He was the centre of their world and all they wanted was to be close to him.
Ruby's mother used to shine when he walked through the door, but he only ever had eyes for Ruby. He would smile kindly at this woman and as Ruby grew older she saw the pain that this caused. But the relationship had drifted apart and the only reason he came home at all was to see his daughter.
The last time she had seen him was 2 years ago when he had called from a phone box in London to say he was home for the weekend and did she want to meet him? Well of course she dropped everything-rehearsals with the band, a night away with girlfriends and an interview for a new job, to see him for one day. Ruby never spoke to her mother much, she had moved out when she was 16 to live with an older man who was nothing except a mentor and best friend to her.
Dave, the club manager, came running towards her, shouting and waving his arms angrily.
"Uh oh," Ruby said to her father, "I'm in for it now. How long are you staying?"
"I'll be here for you after sweetheart don't worry."
"But how long are you staying?"
"Ruby, you're late...look at the state of you!" Shouted Dave in her face. Saliva had gathered at the corner of his mouth and she was subjected to a spraying.
"Dave, just a minute. This is my dad, he -"
"I don't care Ruby, if you're not on stage in 2 minutes you're..."
"I'm talking to my dad." She glared at the manager like the feisty firecracker that she was and refused to back down.
"Ruby it's ok, I'll be here when you finish. I'm so excited to see you. Make me proud honey." He kissed her and nodded to Dave as he walked off to find a seat.
Ruby couldn't believe it,,,she felt as if she was flying. Her dad had come to see her and she just knew he would be her number one fan.
She managed to get through the set despite the niggling pain in the back of her mind that her relationship with Paul was over.
A few hours later she was being applauded and cheered and she felt the happiest that she had ever felt. She hadn't taken her eyes off her father in case he disappeared, but she knew she'd given it everything she had.
Finally the crowd let her leave the stage so she placed her guitar down gently and waved one last time before diving backstage to where her dad would hopefully make his way. She was thinking of all the places she would take him...they could go out for food to the Mexican that she loved - when someone grabbed her arm and stopped her in her tracks.
It was Paul and he was drunk. It was unlike him but she didn't have time right then, she needed to get to her dad. But he wouldn't let her go and something about him just didn't seem right.
"You've got a cheek. Let go of me," she cried, shoving him away from her.
"I made a mistake," he slurred, "I'm sorry Rubes. I shouldna said anything."
"I don't want to hear it Paul. Just go home and leave me alone."
Paul's hands were wandering over her back and shoulders, making their way to her face and she was about to knee him in the groin when her favourite person in the whole wide world bellowed "get away from my daughter."
Paul lost his grip on Ruby as she wriggled out of his grasp and he turned to see the man who was now towering over him. Max Devereux was a force to be reckoned with and ordinarily a man like Paul would have walked away, hands up in surrender. But a crazy confidence had possessed him and in his drunken state believed he could take him on.
Paul staggered towards him and swung his arm wildly in the direction of the soldier. Max took a step back and let him exhaust himself. A few moments later and Paul had fallen onto his face and had a nose bleed.
"Just go home mate, leave her be ok?" Said max, turning away from him to find Ruby.
"She's a bitch, and you're welcome to her."
It happened in a flash...max spun round on his heel and with a steel fist punched him in the side of his head, knocking him out cold. Paul slumped to the floor and a gentle stream of blood trickled down his face.
"Dad, come on he's not worth it. Let's go, ok?" Ruby insisted frantically. The club was always having to deal with fights and as a result Dave had a no tolerance policy. She could see him now, heading towards them, look of anger on his face.
Ruby grabbed her fathers hand and they headed to the door, though she glanced back at Paul once before they left. It was the last time she saw him.
The incident with Paul hadn't really effected her - he was being a knob and deserved it - but seeing her dad like that, in a different light...it made her fear him slightly. Not that he would ever do anything like that to her, or even her mother for that matter. But she happened to glance at him and see something in his eye as he clenched his fist and punched. It was a grim satisfaction, a sort of lust that took over as his fist made contact. Ruby had never seen her dad like this and it scared her.
They went for a Mexican however, her dad insisting that he treat her, then he drank vodka as though it were water. He started getting rowdier as the alcohol kicked in and before long he was guffawing loudly at her jokes and boasting about his talented daughter to anyone who would listen.
There were a couple of people in the restaurant - an old lady at one table and a couple at the other, but it was already late, nearly closing time.
Ruby looked out of the window as her father paid the bill and saw a police car drive past slowly. A couple of drunken men walked into the road and leered at the car but the police just ignored them. Ruby thought nothing of it and turned her attention back to her father who was now beginning to shout abuse at the waitress, claiming that she had overcharged him and that they didn't even order the nachos to start. Ruby stood up and went to pay herself, when two police officers walked into the restaurant and headed straight for her father. They calmly stood behind him and said "Mr Max Devereux? He spun round aggressively but stopped when he saw who it was.
"That's me sirofficer. And how are you tonight?" he slurred, leaning up against the counter.
"We would like to discuss an event which happened earlier tonight if you don't mind, sir."
"What event? I been with my daughter all night, isn't that right Ruby?"
Ruby rushed to her dad and slid her arms around his waist.
"That's right, he has been with me all evening. What's the matter?"
"It's concerning a Mr Paul Armstrong and an incident that happened at the club tonight."
"What's he said?" Ruby asked angrily, "he has no right to call you, it was his fault. He's such an arse."
"So you were at the club with Mr Armstrong then?"
"Well yes but he called my daughter a nasty name and I won't tolerate it, you know?" slurred max.
"Mr Devereux I'm placing you under arrest -"
"What?" Shouted Ruby incredulously, "That's outrageous, what for?"
"For the murder of Paul Armstrong."
Chapter 7
Ruby could do nothing but stare as they led her father away, him glancing over his shoulder at her, trying to reassure her.
"Don't worry babe, I'll sort this out, just go home and I'll see you in the morning. Love you Ruby."
Ruby was too shocked to move and suddenly collapsed to the floor just as the police car drove away. Although she remained conscious she was unaware of how long she spent lying on the floor until someone came and lifted her head, placing a coat underneath. It all seemed to be happening so slowly and she could hear strange sounds, as though she was swimming underwater. Her vision was blurred and she couldn't focus on the face now in front of her. She was waving something in front of Ruby's face and trying up force something into her lips...water, it tasted of water. Ruby felt a wave of nausea and started retching, though nothing would come up. She sat up finally and noticed that an old lady was kneeling beside her...the old lady who was sitting at the other table. She had a kindly face and although Ruby felt that she could trust her, she didn't want to talk to anyone, she just wanted to get to her dad. Ruby scrambled to her feet and mumbled her thanks to the lady, making her way to the door. Her legs felt like lead though and she could hardly move. The old lady took her by the shoulders and sat her into a chair.
"Now sit here a minute, you're in no fit state to go anywhere. Cara, get this girl a sugary tea will you? She needs it."
"Isn't brandy better? My dad says that -"
"Your dad says brandy is good for anything, including alcoholism. Get me a tea."
"Alright," she rolled her eyes as she went behind the counter. "How many sugars do I put in?"
"3 teaspoons," the lady said curtly.
"Is sweetener better, she looks like she needs to be on a diet," the girl continued, suddenly bringing Ruby out of her daze.
"Cara Edwards, make that tea now...strong with 3 heaped teaspoons of granulated sugar and give it a good stir. I swear on your mothers grave that I will go back to where you live and tell your father that instead of going to school at 8 O clock in the morning you are actually going to Suzy Jenkins house to smoke pot in her dads shed."
Cara stood with her mouth wide open and blinked once at the old lady. Ruby was slowly beginning to wake from her dazed trance and found the situation in front of her rather funny. She giggled nervously, knowing she was being inappropriate but unable to stop.
Cara looked at her crossly and stormed off behind the door to make a strong tea. This only made Ruby laugh harder and before long she had tears streaming down her face and had her hand covering her mouth. The old lady waited patiently, watching Ruby with pity. Finally Ruby stopped laughing, and suddenly she couldn't remember the reason she had started in the first place. This time the tears were falling for another emotion.
"That's right love, let it out. You've had a shock, it's perfectly normal to behave strangely."
The couple in the corner couldn't take any more it seemed so they dropped some cash on the table and shuffled nervously out of the door, keeping their heads low. Cara came back in with the tea and sat down on the other chair.
"I don't know what was so funny. I wouldn't be laughing if my dad got arrested for murder."
"Cara." The old lady gave her a warning look.
"I knew there was something weird about him."
"Cara!"
"And to think he said that I had overcharged him...I'm not the criminal here. The cheek."
"Cara, into the kitchen now. You go there and you stay there until I tell you to come back."
"I don't want to. I want to stay here."
"Now young lady, and any more of your cheek and Suzy Jenkins will be a distant memory."
Cara held her hands up in surrender and sighed her way to the kitchen. Before she went in she couldn't resist one more comment.
"Don't suppose I'll get a tip now, will I?"
Ruby looked at the old woman sitting in front of her and felt her eyes fill with tears again.
"Thanks but I don't drink tea," she said fighting back the sobs.
"Take a few sips, it'll calm you down and make you feel better. I used to be police liaison officer and I can tell you right now that nothing calms the nerves like a nice cup of sweet tea." She patted her hand then watched as Ruby sipped the hot drink. It burnt her tongue and made her face wrinkle at the taste, but she did not feel strong enough to argue.
"I remember this one time I had to go to a house where the poor man had lost his wife and two children in a car accident. I worked with him for 3 weeks solid, every day going round to comfort him, I saw him go through every emotion under the sun but every time the only thing that settled him was a sweet cup of tea."
Ruby nodded, barely registering what the woman had said.
"What's your name love?" She finally asked once she was satisfied the tea was staying down.
"Ruby. Ruby Devereux."
"Not THE Ruby Devereux? The one on her way to the top?"
Ruby just nodded her assent.
"Well, what a talent you've got, that's for sure. I've been to watch you a number of times now, I think you're a star."
"I don't recognise you," Ruby said with a puzzled look on her face.
"Oh that's because I always sit at the back...old man Taylor had a thing for me a few years ago and now I avoid him like the plague. He doesn't see me if I'm at the back, his eyesights too bad."
Ruby smiled despite herself. The tea must be working.
"What are they going to do to my dad?"
"Well I presume he's still in active duty?"
"Yes."
"Well then the military police will come for him soon, he'll be taken back to base where he will have a trial eventually."
"How can this have happened? He only punched him once."
"Sometimes that's all it takes."
Suddenly shouts came from the kitchen area and cara could be heard swearing and cursing at someone. She came bursting back into the restaurant, arms folded and leaned against the bar. The old woman raised her eyebrows at her and cara tutted and rolled her eyes again, leaving the bar and going back to the kitchen.
The old woman talked to Ruby as she continued sipping her tea, distracting her from the overwhelming problem she was facing. Because Ruby was facing the worst challenge of her life,,,not only was her father in prison but her recently ex boyfriend was dead. She loved him, she would never fully understand the reason he finished with her. And he wanted to tell her...she should have let him, instead of putting her father first in everything she did. Why did he have such a hold on her? Why did he always have to leave again? There was a pause and the woman looked down at her hands on the table.
"I'm sorry, I haven't really been listening. I've lost them both in one night. I'm facing the rest of my life alone and I don't think any amount of tea will fix that. I've got to go to the police station before he's taken to the base and I can't see him again."
"They won't come tonight and you won't be allowed to see him anyway. Let me take you home and you can get some rest. Is there someone else I can call for you?"
"Didn't you hear me?" Ruby asked calmly. "I'm alone. There isn't anyone else. I don't want to go home anyway. There's nothing there for me. And all of his stuff is there."
They stayed at the restaurant for some time then the old lady insisted that they walk to cafe that was open all night.
"You're being so kind but I don't even know your name."
"It's Atta dear. Pleased to make your acquaintance."
Monday, 14 September 2015
Christmas novel...excerpt 2
A little bit more for you to enjoy...
Agatha
After the champagne was poured Agatha presented her guests with a starter of filo parcels with brie and cranberry on rocket with a balsamic glaze dotted prettily around the plate. She was particularly proud of this dish, having made it up all by herself. She felt certain that something of this caliber would be served in a Jamie Oliver restaurant, and after taking 13 pictures and posting 9 of them on Instagram she reluctantly placed them in front of her guests.
Sitting down and eagerly picking up her knife and fork she began the conversation she had been rehearsing in her head all day.
"So Charlie, I hear you've -"
She was cut off abruptly.
"My name is Charles," he said brusquely, looking at her under his mad mop of curly hair.
"Oh, sure. Sorry Charles."
Agatha sucked in her breath sharply, it was most definitely not a time for her sensitivities to surface. 'Don't cry, don't cry' she thought, keeping her eyes down on her food and refocusing her efforts on the conversation. Try as she might, she couldn't bring herself to speak.
Charles.
'Ok so she called me Charlie again. This night can not end fast enough,' he thought grimly as he sawed way through the overcooked filo parcel. Yes he felt slightly bad, and yes he was perhaps a tad rude to her, but who calls a complete stranger by a nickname anyway? A nickname he only allowed one person to use. Ever. Still, he felt bad, especially when he happened to glance up as she was trying to quash her tears. He checked the clock on the wall. 'Only ten minutes have passed', he thought glumly. 'Only another 2 hours and 50 minutes before it would be polite to leave.'
Ruby
'Is she CRYING?' Thought Ruby critically. 'Wow, she needs a Valium or something.' Ruby had barely said a word since they had sat down, focussing all her energies instead on forcing the inedible substance down her throat. Once she had successfully swallowed the last morsel she placed her knife and fork down carefully, so as not to draw attention to herself and placed her hands in her lap. Her fingers started tapping out a rhythm - she always did this when she was nervous. She didn't even realise she was doing it most of the time. The silence became deafening.
Ben
After what seemed like an age after "Charlie's" little outburst, Ben finished his tasteless starter and asked a question.
"So you're in a jungle and you have no way of getting out alive. Would you rather die quickly from being eaten by an anaconda or die slowly but gracefully by a snake bite? I must warn you, the anaconda will spit your bones out afterwards, leaving them floating in a swamp somewhere, whereas the snake bite would be so poisonous that it'll turn your kidneys to mush."
They guests looked at Ben with a mixture of disgust and horror on their faces. The awkwardness fell like a blanket so he tried again.
"I think I would prefer the anaconda. I mean how cool would it be to see inside of a creature that big? Who knows what you'd see inside its belly? Boots? Umbrellas? Shopping trolleys?" He laughed and looked around at their faces, before stopping abruptly and sighing. He picked up his champagne and downed the rest of the glass, suddenly wishing he had kept his stupid mouth quiet.
Agatha.
Although she had stopped herself from crying, she was thoroughly unsuccessful in playing the perfect host. Not for the first time she wondered why on earth she was doing this dinner, for 3 complete strangers. It was all because of her nan, her crazy, stupid, dead nan.
Chap 2
Two years previously.
Ben stepped out of the ground floor flat that he shared with his brother and gulped the cold air deep into his lungs. It was frosty out this morning, his breath misting in front of him, but Ben hardly felt the cold, he was just so happy to be outside.
He shoved his hands deep into his pockets and walked the short distance to the local corner shop, Dougs, where the only items on his list was 2 strawberry cornettos and a bottle of vimto. His brother had had a hankering for these things, and once he had something in his mind it was impossible to steer him away. But Ben didn't mind in the slightest, he always enjoyed his brothers whims and he hadn't been out of the house for a few days, not since Giles' last bout of pneumonia.
Ben lived with his older brother who was 18 months his senior and who had been living with motor neurones disease for the last 10 years. It was just the two of them...their father died when Ben was two and their mother walked out on them when Giles' disease became more than just a whisper. She found a fella, the kind who preys on vulnerable women then takes them for a whole lot of money before magically disappearing forever and a day. Except he hadn't reckoned on Trisha blackthorn and she completely dug her claws in and refused to let go. So they left, rowing and slapping one another on a beautiful Sunday morning in June, and never came back.
Since then they had been there for each other...Ben became the provider when Giles couldn't work any more; Ben became the carer when Giles' body wouldn't work any more; and Ben became the home maker - cooking, cleaning, doing the diy, when Giles didn't have the energy. But Giles provided the emotional support that Ben needed and they were best friends.
Ben had his own IT consultancy business which meant he could mostly work from home, but a few days a week he had to go to meetings in the city. It worried him every time he had to leave his brother but Giles had a panic button and they had a few neighbours who were willing to check in on him from time to time.
Ben was dressed thoroughly inappropriately for a visit to Dougs, in his superdry jeans, his Armani leather biker jacket and his Gucci sneakers. Only 10 minutes ago he'd been slumped in his lazy chair playing a great video game in his most treasured and loved pyjamas, faded, threadbare but oh so comfortable. He liked to look good, he felt happy when people admired him and actually really enjoyed clothes.
He liked dressing well, smelling good, and crying...really crying. He cried over everything...John Lewis adverts on the TV, when he finished a good book, or visits to the donkey sanctuary. He liked to listen to people's problems, he was always being told how good a listener he was.
He had never really had a relationship with anyone - well not since the 6th form when he had fallen in love with Gemma May Powell - a busty blonde with a killer ponytail and skirts shorter than Ronnie Corbett. He had no time and no interest, he loved his life. It was just him and his brother, and that's the way Ben wanted it.
He reached Dougs and pushed the door open, hearing the familiar tinkle of the bell. Just behind him an elderly lady he vaguely recognised entered, so he held the door open until she was through. The shop had a heavy air of quietness about it, and although this was nothing unusual - it was only 9 o clock on a Sunday morning, and most of Dougs customers were still in bed - there was something almost eerie about it. Ben glanced around cautiously but saw nothing untoward.
"Hello? Mr Singh?" he called out tentatively.
"Oh hello, we are closed," came the sing song welsh accent of the shop owner.
"Are you sure? Your door sign says open."
"Oh no, we are closed. Goodbye."
"Now listen up mr Singh, this charming young man and I have come into your dingy little shop to buy something," said the elderly lady behind Ben, making him jump. "I've come in for frozen peas and a card for my friend Eleanor, and this young man has come in for - what have you come in for dear?"
"Oh, um cornettos and vimto" he said quietly to her.
"Well don't tell me, tell him."
"Oh right, um Cornettos and Vimto. Mr Singh."
"That's right, now come out here so we can see you're alright."
"Oh I can't do that Mrs Monroe, please, you must go."
At this point a young man wearing a pink balaclava came round the aisle and held a gun up to them both. Ben instinctively put his hands up like he knew you were supposed to in these situations and started thinking about the things he should've done before he left. 'Who will look after Giles? Who will pay my monthly subscription to canoe and kayak? Oh thank goodness I put clean underwear on.'
"Matthew Goodyear, give me that toy and take off your sisters balaclava."
The person under the mask faltered and said "no, now give me your money."
"Matthew Goodyear, if you think I'm falling for that silly voice then you are even more stupid than you look right now. I'd know you anywhere, delivered you into this world for goodness sake."
His shoulders slumped and Matthew Goodyear took off his mask.
"Hand over the gun."
He handed it sullenly over to the old woman.
"Enough of that cheek, boy. Now what will your mum say when she hears about your latest escapades?"
"I dunno," he scuffed the floor with his shoe.
"Beg pardon? Speak clearly. I'll tell you what she'll say, she'll tell you that she's sending you off to juvenile detention again for your 9th attempt at armed robbery."
At this point a shaken Mr Singh walked from the back of the shop and took his place behind the counter.
"And as for you Mr Singh, you should know better than to let this boy bully you. He's done it to you three times now, will you never learn? Honestly, it's a wonder this shop is still standing."
"Can I go now Mrs Monroe?"
"Yes you can go, but I'll be keeping this." She indicated the gun.
"Oh but it's my sisters, she'll kill me if I don't bring it home."
"Good, then maybe we'll all have some peace. One more attempt like this and I'll strangle you with my own hands."
With that he scampered out of the door and ran out of sight. Ben looked in awe at the old lady.
"Oh don't look at me like that," she said, rolling her eyes. "I've known that boy for 15 years, he's good really, just a bit angry at the world. Now Mr singh, have yourself a sweet cup of tea then pull yourself together. You really must not let these teenagers take the better of you. Now, what did I come in for again?" she muttered to herself.
"Peas and a card for your friend Eleanor I believe Mrs Monroe."
She looked at Ben suspiciously and then nodded. He thrust out his hand towards her.
"Hello, I'm Ben. Ben Blackthorn. I live in -"
"I know who you are. How is your brother, Giles?"
"You know about Giles? Um he's been better, just had pneumonia. But
He's asking for ice cream so he must be on the mend."
"Can your brother wait for his ice cream or will he be anxious if you don't return?"
"Why, are you thinking of taking me hostage now as well?" Ben joked, producing one of his best winks.
The old lady gave him a withering look and shook her head.
"Those tricks might work on the young ladies of the world, but they don't work on me."
"Oh no Mrs Monroe, Mr Blackthorn is gay, he does not wink at young ladies," interjected the shopkeeper.
"Ben Blackthorn is most definitely not a homosexual I'll have you know, he just likes to pretend he is so people will leave him alone."
Both men's jaws dropped and they both looked at the woman, unable to speak.
"How do you..."
"Now Benjamin, come with me for a quick cup of tea at Sally's. I'm parched and I think you need to leave that flat for a while."
"Oh no, thank you but I really should be getting back to my brother."
"He's fine, I think it's you who needs looking after in my opinion. Right Mr Singh, don't forget that sugary tea, you'll feel right as rain in no time. I'll be back in an hour for my peas."
With that she marched back out of the door and waited for Ben outside.
Ben looked bewildered and found himself following her orders. He waved to the shop owner who simply did not look surprised at anything concerning Mrs Monroe, and walked out to the street.
"Now Sally will be expecting me to buy a stale Belgian bun from her display, because it's what I normally do. But it's a messy thing to eat and it always gets stuck in my dentures so I won't be having one today. But she is a funny old thing and will be offended if I decline so I'm going to let you have it but you must make sure you eat it discreetly or she'll be calling her big brothers on you."
Without being able to get a word in edge ways they arrived at the local greasy spoon, Sally's. Ben had come in once, the first time he and his brother had come to check out the flat before they rented it. He had walked back out after a rather dodgy egg roll and lukewarm, insipid cup of coffee and sworn on his brothers life that he would never step foot in there again. And now here he was, stepping both his feet back in through the door. Ben glanced towards the flat with a frown.
"Oh hi Atta," Sally, the middle aged woman with voluptuous breasts and brown stained apron shouted.
"It's Mrs Monroe, Sally," she replied with a twinkle in her eye.
"Right you are Atta. I'll get your usual for you now. What does your man here want?"
"Just a tea please."
"Rightio, one big breakfast coming up."
"No," Ben began, but Mrs Monroe put her hand on his arm.
"Just go along with it," she whispered. "Sally isn't all there and she gets awfully depressed if people don't like her food. You just be grateful she doesn't recognise you as the man who vomited up her bacon bap."
"It was an egg roll, and how do you know about that? In fact, Mrs Monroe, how do you know all those things about me?"
"Oh please, call me Atta."
"Alright. Atta."
"A long time ago I was a midwife, as you might have gathered. I delivered babies day and night for many years. I remember every baby that came screaming into my arms, and stay in touch with mothers and their Offspring alike. You are no different. Its just that you didn't know it."
"You...you delivered me? Oh, that's amazing. I never knew."
"No, not all of you do. But your mother keeps in contact with me from time to time."
"My...my mother? Huh, I doubt it, I don't think she even knows that we're living in London. She's too engrossed up her own arse to know anything about us."
"Language, Benjamin."
"Sorry."
"When you were born you were a bright little thing. 21st June, 9lbs 10 if I remember, quite a big baby, especially seeing as your mum was so tiny. Your dad held you in his arms while I dealt with the afterbirth, and I swear he didn't stop crying with happiness for the next hour. That's probably where you get your love of crying from."
"What? You knew my dad? I don't exactly have a "love of crying" - wait, am I like him?"
"No, you're more like her. Giles is more like your dad, you must've seen pictures of him?"
"No, my mum threw all the pictures away when he died, then went out on an all night bender. She left the two of us, young children, on our own."
"You have to understand something about your parents. He was her rock, she couldn't do anything without him. He made her into a mother, he helped her, was patient with her, he loved her, despite her funny ways.
"When your father died she went to pieces...she didn't know how to cope with you young boys, both tearaways, so close in age. I helped her out as much as I could of course, but she didn't want help."
"I don't remember you. Why don't I remember you?"
"I was mostly there at night when you were in bed. I came over most evenings, once or twice helped put you to bed. You used to have a rabbit, what was his name? Bun buns? Buggy?"
"Bugsy. I still have him. I think I remember you. You always had banana flavoured sweets in your bag?"
"That's me. Don't like them myself but kids always enjoyed them."
"Not me. I used to store them in my mouth and hide them when you weren't looking."
"Oh I know you did. I always found them stuck under the dining room table."
"How is she? My mum?"
"Oh she's alright, under the circumstances."
"What circumstances?"
Atta stretched across the table and took his hand. She looked into his eyes and in that moment he knew something was about to change in his life forever.
"She's homeless. That rotten man she took off with kicked her out two years ago and now she's taken to sleeping rough on the streets."
Ben felt the colour drain out of his cheeks.
"I didn't know. She...she never tried to make contact."
"She was too proud...still is. But that doesn't mean she doesn't try to find out all she can about you. I've met her here a few times."
Ben looked around at the cafe with its peeling wallpaper and faded decor. He glanced at the corner where a couple of men were guffawing over a rude joke. He looked back to Atta, who was still holding his hand.
"Here we are my lovelies," said Sally as she navigated her way through the empty tables with a tray.
"Your usual Belgian bun Atta, made sure I put one by for you, and one big breakfast for the young man. Let's hope he's got a stronger constitution these days shall we?" She raised her eyebrows at him knowingly then shoved his shoulder before walking away laughing.
"She likes you, you should be grateful," said Atta, picking up the bun and wrapping a serviette around it.
"Mm. This is lovely, best one yet Sal," she suddenly shouted without looking up.
"Yep, only the best for you Atta."
"It's Mrs Monroe."
"Right you are Atta."
"Go on, tuck in Ben. You'll be needing a pick me up and believe it or not this food is not going to kill you."
Ben picked up his fork and stabbed a sausage, too stunned by the recent revelations to object. He found himself wolfing it down, and surprised himself by actually enjoying it. He mopped up the final remains of yolk with his toast then popped it in his mouth, thinking of something as he did so.
"Why haven't you introduced yourself to me sooner?" He said, when he had finally finished chewing. "I mean you know enough about me and my brother, stuff that nobody else knows. How?" Ben took a swig of his tea.
"It's simple really. I go round when you're not there. I've even got my own key."
Ben choked on his tea and sprayed it on the table in front of him. He made such a commotion that Sally came over to see if he was being sick again, and when she saw that he had spilt tea all over her white tablecloth she found the first thing she could get her hands on, which happened to be the serviette with the Belgian bun in.
Attas eyes widened and she went to grab the incriminating evidence out of her hands but it was too late and Sally was using it to mop up the mess.
Ben, seeing the panic in Attas eyes stood quickly and pointed out of the window, grabbing Sally's arm so abruptly that she dropped it on the floor. Whilst she was craning her neck to see out of the window at whatever Ben was pointing at, atta ducked under the table much faster than you would expect someone of her age to be able to, and retrieved the bun from the napkin, shoving it straight into her handbag.
"What you looking at? I can't see," Sally complained to Ben sullenly.
"Oh it's gone now, I thought it was a golden eagle or something." Ben could see in the corner of his eye that the old lady was giving him the thumbs up.
"In the middle of London?! Really Ben, what were you thinking?" exclaimed Atta, tutting and shaking her head.
"You never know Atta, these zoos have animals escaping all the time. My uncle once saw an emu walking down the street towards him, happy as you like. The emu kicked him in the back, nasty things," she added to Ben.
"It's Mrs Monroe, Sally."
"Right you are Atta. I'd better be getting on with tidying up."
Ben had enjoyed the moment but realisation suddenly hit and he remembered the old lady's confession. He pulled his wallet out of his pocket and dropped two notes on the table.
"That should cover it. I'd better get back."
And he walked out of the cafe, slamming the door slightly harder than he had intended to.
Atta shook her head slightly and stood up from the table. 'That could have gone better', she thought, picking up her bag and waving to Sally. She opened the door and saw Ben jogging back towards the shop, his lanky legs taking quite big strides.
Chapter 3
Ben walked in through the front door with the cornettos and vimto and called out cheerfully to let his brother know he was back.
"Giles? I'm home, sorry I'm late, there was an armed robbery at Dougs and some stupid kid totally tried to shoot me. I'm like, totally fine but it was touch and go." He put the Vimto in the fridge and hid the bottle of whiskey that he had concealed in his coat in a cupboard that Giles could no longer reach. "Course I took him out with a near fatal karate chop to the jugular and pinned him down until the police got there. I might even get a medal or something. Giles?" he called out again.
There was still no answer so he walked quickly to the front room to check on him. Still calling he eventually found him passed out by the toilet, lying in a puddle of urine with a trickle of blood above his eye.
"Ok Giles, I'm here, come on big bruv, wake up."
Ben lifted him up gently into a sitting position and put his arms around his slender shoulders. It wasn't the first time Ben had found his brother like this, and although he was used to the piss and shit he could never adjust to seeing his brother so weak and helpless. He slid his other arm under his legs and lifted him effortlessly, placing him on Bens own bed with a pillow under his head.
"Come on brother, time to wake up. I've got a cornetto with your name on it."
Giles still lay unmoving, but Ben seemed unfazed by it. He stripped off his wet clothes and inwardly groaned at the bill he would receive from this much dry cleaning. He stripped down to just his underwear.
"So Giles, I have a question for you. You're in a wrestling competition and you've made it to the final. But the other finalist is a terrifying old woman with superpowers and telepathy and great one liners that you can't beat. Would you rather let her beat you or would you rather just walk away and be the laughing stock of the whole wrestling world?" Ben picked up his towel and turned to head to the bathroom to take a shower when his brother piped up.
"Neither. I'd take her on and I'd win. I'd kick her false teeth out then whack her with her Zimmer frame. Then I'd deliver her a winning blow by saying something clever like "you and your teeth are entirely welcome.""
Ben, still facing the opposite way gave a chuckle and walked out of the room.
"She's wanted to meet you for a really long time you know," he called, trying to raise himself up onto his elbows but failing. "She kept on about how you needed an outlet, how you needed to be a young man again. I just told her that we were ok, you know? We didn't need anyone else."
"It's fine Giles," Ben said, turning slightly so he could see his brother from the corner of his eye. "I just wish I'd known that an old lady was coming in every day to take care of you. And old lady who has a key. And who knows that I cry a lot. And who knows where mum is."
"I didn't think you'd want to see her. She's been out of our lives for so long and you've always spoken of her with such hatred. I just wanted to spare you any more pain."
"It's not up to you to decide for me."
"I know, I knew I was doing the wrong thing but..."
"But what Giles?" Ben came in the room in two strides and towered over the bed. "But you're just trying to protect me? You were just helping me? Taking the burden of knowing our mother was some homeless tramp, wandering from shelter to shelter without a penny to her name? I thought we shared everything, knew everything about each other. Now you've got this secret life that I know nothing about."
There was silence for a moment and Ben thought he had gone too far. He and his brother rarely fought and it was never pleasant when they did.
"For your information Atta and I will be getting married next spring and we are completely and utterly in love."
Ben looked at his brother for a long while then burst out laughing.
"Yep, we've got the honeymoon booked, I think Bali should be pleasant in May, don't you?" Ben slumped on the bed next to his brother and rested his head next to his arm.
"Just shut up Mr lover man."
"Ew, don't lie so close, you're only wearing pants."
"Shut up, you're the one soaked in piss."
"Yeah. On your bed."
Ben picked up the pillow from under his head and threw it down on his brother playfully.
"Loser."
"Idiot."
They lay like this for some time until Ben finally spoke.
"So come on then, how did you come to have a secret tryst with such a lady?"
Giles told him the story then, of how one innocuous day she came and knocked on the door once Ben had gone to a meeting. "It was on a hot day, remember that time in June when we just sat in pants all day with the windows open? Well you'd gone off and left me with a Breaking Bad box set to hammer my way through when suddenly she knocked on the door. It frightened the crap out of me so I paused the telly and sat quietly until I thought they'd left. But then she came to the window and looked in through the curtain. I told her we didn't want to subscribe to any charity but if she popped her details through the post we would have a read and then she started climbing through the window."
"She did what?"
"Yeah. Climbed through the window. I was about to call the police and tell them that a clepto was breaking in but then I kind of recognised her."
"Huh," said Ben. "She really is an old lady with super powers."
"Right? She climbed through as though she was getting out of bed, no effort at all."
"So what then? She tidy up and make tea or something? Maybe give you her Belgian bun?"
"What kind of euphemism is that? Nah, she sat down and watched Breaking Bad with me. Turns out she's well into it, loves herself a bit of Jesse Pinkman apparently." They both laughed, Ben unable to imagine anyone over the age of thirty finding Jesse Pinkman desirable.
"She's just...cool, you know? She comes over whenever you go out, keeps me company. Helps me to the crapper and all. She's strong for one so old."
"Shut up Yoda. But why didn't you just tell me? What was I going to do, break up your little party cos I was jealous?"
"To be honest Ben you kinda like to be in charge. I think you get off on doing everything around here and looking after me. Not that I've got a choice but I kind of feel indebted to you. And she...she was just a different face I suppose. You've given up everything to look after me and I don't know how many days I've got left on this earth but I don't want to spend them worrying that you are wasting your life by being here with me. She helped me escape that guilt for a while. Plus she's really funny."
"I like doing stuff for you. It's you and me, I don't want to be anywhere else."
"What about having a relationship and kids? What about going on holiday, going out for a meal, the cinema? You're giving up all that stuff for me and I don't want you to."
"What are you saying?"
"I'm saying that it doesn't have to be this way. I knew she would run into you today. In fact she even set up that whole thing with Matthew Goodyear in the shop so she would have a reason to talk to you."
"You mean...?"
"He's not really attempted robbery 9 times, he's actually got a paper round at Dougs and sings in the church choir every Sunday. Nice kid."
"But Mr Singh...he was scared and shaken!"
"Turns out he used to be quite a thespian when he was back in school."
"Why not just invite her round for me to meet her? Why all the drama?"
"She doesn't do anything by halves, Mrs Monroe doesn't. Wanted to take the measure of you apparently. Anyway don't freak out but she's coming round in 30 minutes."
"What?" cried Ben, shooting up from the bed suddenly.
"Yeah. And she's bringing our mum."
Ben's shoulders tensed. "Have you seen her? Since she walked out on us? Has she been here?"
Giles just nodded. Ben looked at him for a minute then sprang into action. First he went to the bathroom and ran the shower. Second he went back to his bedroom, picked up his brother gently and carried him in. He proceeded to wash him, dry him, change him and place him on the sofa, all without saying a word. Then he went to the kitchen, poured himself a glass of whiskey and went to sit on the chair next to Giles, still in his underwear, still wreaking from the urine, still fuming from the revelations.
"What do you think they'd enjoy?" he barked. "Jeremy Kyle?" He turned the TV on and they watched a woman shouting at her husband for a full twenty minutes. Then the door bell rang.
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